


I'll Never Get Your Bullet out of My Head

by thekeyholder



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Episode 3x04 and 05, Episode Related, Hypnotism, Inspired By Tumblr, M/M, Pre-Slash, all the feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 20:11:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8341153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder/pseuds/thekeyholder
Summary: After the botched attempt to make Jim take his life, the Mad Hatter decides to ruin the former detective differently. [Spoiler alert for episodes 3x04 and 3x05]





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by [this gifset](http://butterfliesandresistance.tumblr.com/post/151511398760/oh-god-this-looks-like-oswald-is-about-to-shoot) I saw on tumblr. Thank you to [skeleton_twins](http://archiveofourown.org/users/skeleton_twins/profile) for bouncing ideas with me. 
> 
> Many thanks go to [Nekomata58919](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nekomata58919/profile) as well for betaing this story.
> 
> Title is lyrics from the song Bullet by Franz Ferdinand.

Oswald had always known that one day he’d die by the hand of James Gordon. He’d known after that cold, fateful day at the pier: his life had been spared once, and he’d been living on borrowed time ever since. However, this was too soon, too sudden, too strange. Jim extended his shaking arm and pointed the gun at Oswald.

 

* * * * *

 

Jim Gordon cursed the day he let Jervis Tetch into his flat. He had no idea about the man’s depth of depravity, or he wouldn’t have accepted the mission to find his sister. His heart started thumping erratically whenever he remembered the moment he regained consciousness and found himself on the ledge of that high building, about to fall down. If Alice hadn’t come to save him…

 

Troubled, Jim decided to walk home from the police station. He had barely slept the previous night after the scare of his life, and was weak in his knees. The city was annoyingly loud and smoky, so he hurried his steps. A distorted, metallic voice urging people to vote for Oswald Cobblepot, was being blasted from a van.

 

Jim had heard about Oswald’s candidacy, but he hadn’t thought about it ~~,~~ **-** not really. He was surprised to a certain extent, then he remembered that with Oswald, it was always about power. This was just the next step for him. Would Gotham be worse off if the crime lord were to be elected now? No. Maybe it wouldn’t get better, but it also wouldn’t become worse.

 

Deep in his thoughts, Jim stopped at the crosswalk, not noticing anyone or anything around him. Then the ticking began, and he fell into that endless, comforting place, where he didn’t have to bring any painful decisions, because he was told what to do. He stepped forward.

 

“Now you can rest, Jim.”

 

That was it. One more step, and it would be over.

 

He didn’t notice the honking truck or the distressed noises someone made behind him. Suddenly, a small hand grabbed the back of his suit, yanking him forcefully. The passing truck shook Jim out of his trance, and he found himself looking in the worried eyes of Oswald Cobblepot.

 

“What on earth are you doing, Jim?! Do you want to get yourself killed?”

 

Oswald could see the alarm in Jim’s wide eyes. He looked haunted, as if he had just woken from a nightmare. Oswald held the former detective by his arms, and tightened his grip.

 

“Jim, my old friend, are you all right?”

 

“I-I I don’t… Jervis,” Jim muttered, his gaze darkening and he ran away, as if chased by an unseen enemy.

 

Oswald stared at after him for a long time, then waved to Butch. “Find out everything you can about a man named Jervis.”

 

* * * * *

 

It was getting late, and Oswald contemplated drinking a glass of wine in front of fireplace. He’d had a long and tiring day: meetings, a press conference about his candidacy, then more meetings. The mayoral campaign was rather stressful. Then there was also that incredibly bizarre run-in with Jim…the name he whispered, Jervis, belonged to some kind of magician who’d recently arrived into Gotham. The GCPD was looking for him, so maybe that was why Jim mentioned him.

 

Oswald’s phone pinged with a new message. He took it out from his pocket, smiling when he saw it was from Jim.

 

_“Come to the pier at 9. Alone. I want to show you something very important.”_

 

Well, this was certainly surprising, but Oswald would not miss it for anything in the world.

 

* * * * *

 

Oswald had instructed Butch to leave him at the bar on the corner, and he’d walk from there to the meeting point. He didn’t realise how dark it had become, only the Moon illuminating the road from time to time when the clouds cleared off for a few minutes. It was then that Oswald saw a lone figure standing there, the shape unmistakably that of Jim Gordon. Oswald couldn’t help the smile pulling at his lips.

 

However, as he got closer, Jim looked unreal, like a statue: he hadn’t moved an inch as Oswald limped towards him. There was a faint ticking, as if someone’s clock had gone mad, and was rushing towards something inevitable. Jim stared ahead, unblinking.

 

“Well, well, well… I am so very glad you decided to join us, Mr. Cobblepot.”

 

Oswald turned around to face an odd man he had never seen before, pointing a gun at him.

 

“Jim, who is this?”

 

“Oh, I’m afraid Mr. Gordon can’t hear you. Let me introduce myself: I’m Jervis Tetch. Magician,” he added and bowed.

 

Oswald quickly assessed the man’s checkered suit and top hat, his maniacal grin and unwavering voice.

 

“What have you done to Jim?”

 

“Not to worry, Mr. Cobblepot, Jim is merely in a trance. I must say, I am very touched by your concern for him. Earlier today, I saw you saving our common friend’s life, and it was quite surprising. It intrigued me, so I looked into it. I had no idea the two of you had such a… _history_.”

 

At that, Tetch looked around with a sly smile, his choice for the meeting place suddenly obvious. Oswald felt his blood grow cold in his veins, his fingers gripping the cane tighter. He cursed himself for being stupid enough not to bring a gun with him, but he was supposed to meet with Jim, not a lunatic.

 

“What do you want, Mr. Tetch?”

 

“Oh, I’m glad you asked. I’m after a bit of entertainment. See, I came to Gotham with a mission. Mr. Gordon was supposed to help me, but he failed me and my sister. Last night, my fun was interrupted. However, I figured out that having him commit suicide is not good enough. Jim Gordon would be remembered as a good, honest man, who couldn’t stand the pressure.”

 

Oswald glared at the man, not really understanding where this was going.

 

“But then I saw the two of you, and I found willing people to tell me more about this strange relationship between a gangster and the only honest cop in Gotham. Fascinating story, Mr. Cobblepot, though I don’t pretend to understand its depth, or how it’s survived through all the years and hardships.”

 

“There’s really nothing to understand, Mr. Tetch. As you probably know, Mr. Gordon saved my life, and in exchange, I provided some information to him. Nothing more, nothing less,” Oswald gritted through his teeth.

 

Jervis Tetch had the nerve to laugh. “If you say so. However, my sources said that it was quite a unilateral relationship. I’m sorry about that, Mr. Cobblepot. I understand what it feels like when the person whom you know is your soul mate refuses to see that. But the pain shall end soon. You will go down in history, I’m certain of that. Jim… well, Jim’s name will be mentioned a lot in the newspapers.”

 

Oswald would have broken his cane over Tetch’s spine if that could help his situation in any way, but the man would shoot him before he made the smallest move, no doubt.

 

“Why did you get me mixed into your schemes?”

 

“It wasn’t in my initial plan to include you, you just proved convenient. I could very easily tell Jim to jump into the river and drown,” Jervis replied with a grin. “But I want to destroy him and his reputation. After he’s done here, the GCPD will receive a call, and they will find you with a bullet in your head and Jim with the gun in his hand. Gotham should be grateful to me, I’ll rid them of two very dangerous people!”

 

Tetch laughed, took out the gun from his pocket, and placed it in Jim’s right hand. Oswald noticed that Tetch was wearing leather gloves, so his finger prints wouldn’t be discovered.

 

“Jim, I promised that you will rest, but first, you need to do this task. See this man in front of you?” Jervis asked, and stepped to the right, between Jim and Oswald.

 

“Yes,” Jim replied, face expressionless.

 

“He’s an old acquaintance of yours, Oswald Cobblepot. He’s a bad man, right?”

 

“Yes!”

 

“Jim! Jim, wake up!” Oswald started shouting.

 

“He lies, manipulates, cheats and kills people,” Tetch continued, playing with his watch in the meantime. “Now he wants to become mayor of Gotham. You can’t allow that, Jim.”

 

“I can’t.”

 

“Jim, stop listening to this madman! It’s me, Oswald. Your old friend,” Oswald begged, trying to get through Jim’s trance, but the blue eyes remained just as cold as before.

 

“You hate Oswald Cobblepot, Jim. He’s a gangster, he represents everything you stand against. Shoot him,” Jervis commanded, and stepped back with a satisfied smile.

 

Oswald, absolutely terrified, watched as Jim extended his shaking hand.

 

“Jim, my dear old friend, don’t do this. He’s just playing with your mind. You’re strong, you can defeat this.”

 

The gun started shaking in Jim’s hand, and he closed his eyes, clearly conflicted.

 

“Oswald Cobblepot is a menace to Gotham. It’s your mission to rid the city of men like him. Shoot him, Jim, you know you’ve been saving that bullet for him!”

 

Jim’s brain went haywire: the memories he had of Oswald invaded him all at once. The anger he felt on the pier, the tentative peace and fragile friendship, the favours, the unspeakable moment they had become accomplices, the betrayal that Oswald never brought up, but implied his forgiveness, the joy in those clever eyes whenever he looked at Jim.

 

_Shameful or not, Jim didn’t hate Oswald._

_Jim didn’t want to kill Oswald._

 

With tears in his eyes, but with dignity, Oswald raised his chin up and faced his end. If he were to be killed, he preferred it to be by Jim.

 

“Do it, Jim!”

 

The gun trembled in Jim’s hand as he opened his eyes and locked gazes with Cobblepot. There was no anger or reproach, just acceptance, and that was what finally unlocked the impulse planted by Tetch in Jim’s mind. Instead of shooting Oswald, Jim turned to the right and shot the great Jervis Tetch.

 

Oswald let out a relieved cry, gripping his cane with all his force. Jim dropped the gun and hurried to Oswald, keeping him upright. The stress was too much for Oswald and his knees were giving out.

 

“Are you okay?” Jim asked, shock lingering in his gaze, but he finally looked aware of the events around him.

 

Oswald nodded, his hand landing on Jim’s right shoulder. “What about you? Are you all right? I was so scared, you couldn’t hear me.”

 

“I think I managed to break Tetch’s hold,” Jim rasped.

 

They looked at each other, thousands of words trapped in their throats.

 

“What do we do with him?” Oswald asked, looking at Tetch’s body.

 

“I’ll call the GCPD. It was self-defense. I’m sorry if this will ruin your campaign…”

 

“For goodness sake, Jim, I’m just glad I can return to a campaign. I honestly didn’t think I could escape this.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Jim said tiredly, and leaned his forehead against Oswald’s shoulder. “I’m sorry you were dragged in this.”

 

Oswald put his arm around Jim, his left hand caressing Jim’s hair. They both exhaled shakily, this new position oddly satisfying and soothing.

 

“It’s quite fine, Jim. It’s over now.”

 

 


End file.
